


Nowhere Fast

by kkscatnip (autohaptic)



Series: Getting To Know You [3]
Category: Original Work
Genre: Anal Sex, Community: kink_bingo, Hypnotism, Implied Mind Control, M/M, Massage, Mild Painplay
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-27
Updated: 2013-05-27
Packaged: 2017-12-13 04:34:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,675
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/820029
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/autohaptic/pseuds/kkscatnip
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ashe needs to learn to relax, and Frederick is a good teacher. Meanwhile, Ashe tries very hard to convince himself that he's still scratching an itch. Written for kink_bingo's gift basket challenge, "We Have Ways Of Making You Talk", hypnotism/mind control square.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Nowhere Fast

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ingenius](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ingenius/gifts).
  * Inspired by [Tale of a Modern Thief](https://archiveofourown.org/external_works/22260) by ingenius. 



> This is an original fic remix/fanfic for the one-shot fic above. This series covers from the time of their first fuck to the last time they have sex in the original fic, so you don't need to read the fic to understand it but I (of course) suggest that you do, as it'll help you get more out of this series.

Ashe isn't a hundred percent sure what to expect when he shows up at Frederick's place. The invitation is dinner and a blow job, which is more than their usual. They've settled into this little rhythm wherein Frederick blows Ashe and Ashe either helps Frederick jack off or blows him in return. Usually more the former than the latter, because Frederick made the mistake of telling Ashe how good Ashe's lips look around his cock so now Ashe holds blow jobs back like the trump cards they are.

But Frederick just shows up in his normal gym shorts and a tank top to answer the door, and it's not terribly different from the usual. Ashe pins him against the wall with a kiss, and lets Frederick flip them around, revels at how fast Frederick slides down to his knees and gets Ashe's jeans and underwear out of the way. And always, always slides his fingers into Frederick's hair and pulls.

Fifteen minutes into what would've been a fantastic twenty-minute blow job, the doorbell rings, and Ashe freezes.

Frederick twists his head away from Ashe's grip and tucks Ashe back inside of his underwear, then stands and opens the door like Ashe isn't leaning against the wall behind him with his jeans down. Like he does this shit all the time, which Ashe knows for a fact he _doesn't_. He's normally so careful of things that might embarrass daddy dearest.

"Dinner," he says, in the face of Ashe's confusion.

And Ashe remembers: tonight's invitation is different. Dinner and a blow job. He wonders, halfway to wanting to run out the door, if the blow job part is done, but thinks that Frederick's not that cruel. Also he loves to watch Ashe come a little too much to just... not deliver.

Confident that he'll be getting some after food, Ashe follows Frederick into his living room. It's old-fashioned, dark antique wood furniture that his trust fund probably paid for. Ashe thinks that Frederick didn't even pick it out himself, but doesn't give enough of a shit to ask.

Possibly Ashe is a little fucking nervous at the prospect of having to sit and make conversation with Frederick. It seems so much more complicated now than it did the first time when the only prospect was a single fuck to scratch an itch.

"What's your favorite programming language?" Frederick asks as he sets the brown paper bag down on the coffee table, heading for the kitchen--open floor plan--and getting out dishes and silverware.

Ashe just sits in the armchair--fuck the couch, fuck the idea of Frederick being all... arms around Ashe that's just wrong, this is _fucking_ , not lovey-dovey bullshit. He's not courting his future husband, here. (As if he'll ever have one of _those_.)

He waits until Frederick comes back to answer. Figures it's only polite. "I am actually pretty fond of Jungle," he says, shrugging. Glad that Frederick chose to talk about something innocuous, but at the same time hating that he's glad about that. "Diamond is pretty cool, too, but Jungle's just a lot more versatile in terms of portability."

Like Frederick will know what that means. He nods, though, putting one plate and a fork in front of Ashe and then pulling out foil-and-plastic food containers filled with delicious-smelling food. Meat with sauce, veggies with sauce, one container of each is extra-spicy and the other isn't, judging by the way the scents burn and don't burn Ashe's nostrils.

"Why?" he asks, as he reaches for the container that Frederick hands him. Veggies and sauce. His hands shake and he manages to dump the entire fucking thing down the front of him and all Ashe can think, aside from a dome-shattering _FUCK_ , is that he's so fucking thankful that it wasn't the spicy stuff.

The food's still hot, though, and he jumps up, hissing through his teeth even as his cock stiffens. Fucking--inconvenient and he's not thinking about Frederick burning him, and that thought is not helping, except he's really thinking about it now and oh fuck. He manages to get most of the hot vegetables off of him with Frederick's help, but it leaves Ashe panting and kneeling there on the carpet with a hard cock and Frederick's fingers brushing it as he wipes off the sauce.

Fuck, fuck, fuck.

"You--" Frederick says, and Ashe really wants to just fucking die of shame right here. "You like pain that much?"

Only when it involves Frederick, but Ashe can't say that, so he hunches his shoulders and ducks his head and hopes that conveys the message _I do not want to fucking talk about it_ strongly enough for Frederick.

It's just like Frederick to not get the message, or ignore it, or whatever the fuck is going on. He leans in, nuzzling Ashe's neck and rubbing the heel of his hand against the bulge of Ashe's cock through his jeans. "We don't have to eat first," he murmurs, low, and pushes Ashe's chin up so their eyes meet.

The more Ashe looks into them, the more accustomed Ashe gets to Frederick's light eyes. He does shiver, though, whether from the hand or the intent quality of Frederick's gaze, he doesn't know and he doesn't care.

Not having to make small talk with Frederick might just be worth having dumped hot vegetables all over himself, but he's going to wait to make that determination, going to see where this goes first.

They don't--they kiss and they blow each other. And hand jobs. With clothes on; they haven't gotten naked, even half-naked, again. They also haven't done this, this nuzzling thing that Frederick is doing is new, or at least it hasn't happened again since that first time, so it puts Ashe on high alert at the same time that it strokes the heat in his belly.

"To bed," Frederick whispers, and nips Ashe's neck, a sharp little bite that makes him gasp.

Ashe catches Frederick by his hand before he can get up off the floor, cupping his other hand behind Frederick's neck and pulling him in for a kiss. He starts out dominating it, but then Frederick bites Ashe's lip and those fingers dig into Ashe's hip and Ashe gives in, lets Frederick do whatever the fuck he wants because what he wants feels good. So fucking good.

"To bed," Frederick says again, when the kiss breaks, and gives that smile, that smile that's dangerous because it makes Ashe want to do whatever the fuck Frederick wants as often and soon as possible.

This time Ashe lets him go, and goes down to his hands and knees there next to the table, breathing in deeply, trying to settle himself. His heart's beating in his throat and his cock's pulsing with need, begging for attention that Ashe has no idea how long it's going to take Frederick to show.

He hears the door latch after Frederick and pushes himself up, makes his body do what the fuck he wants it to do. Walk to Frederick's bedroom. Push the door open, don't look as desperate as he feels.

No, he's not desperate. Not for this. Just for a blow job, just for the spaced look in Frederick's eyes when Ashe pulls tiny handfuls of the short hairs at the back of his neck. That's all he wants, here.

Frederick's shirtless, which isn't bad, but again, not the usual, and Ashe coughs twice, his heart's beating so fucking hard and fast.

"Shhh," Frederick says, spreading out a towel on the bed. "Look, I'm going to give you a massage, okay? You seem tense."

Tense. Ashe bites his lip to keep from laughing, but can't stop the smile. He only stumbles over his feet a little bit. A massage is _not_ going to help him relax. "Only if the massage includes a blow job," he says, trying not to feel so goddamn wary as he looks at the towel. It's just a towel, for fuck's sake. The oil isn't even scented; Ashe recognizes it as the lubricant that Frederick had Ashe use the last time he gave Frederick a hand job.

Still, for Frederick's dangerous smile, Ashe is willing to do a lot of things. Maybe even have a massage.

"Of course," Frederick's saying, like it's no big deal, like he planned the blow job.

Maybe he did. Does he really know Ashe that well? Ashe hesitates for a few more moments, then tells himself he's being fucking stupid and probably making Frederick suspicious and that's the last thing he needs, the very last thing he needs. So he'd better just suck it up and strip down and crawl on that goddamn towel.

He only shakes a little as he strips, and Frederick doesn't comment. Doesn't try to help. He pulls the towel straight after Ashe crawls on it, though, and hands Ashe a pillow. "You can lay back, if you want."

Like he knows that Ashe won't.... fuck, fuck this all. Ashe lays back and wills himself not to give a fuck, not a single, solitary fuck, about it.

Frederick crawls on the bed, settles between Ashe's half-spread legs and leans down to nuzzle Ashe's cock. His stubble feels fucking divine, even if it's something that he's never really done before. Lots of blow jobs, not so much rubbing stubble on Ashe's cock.

Then again maybe Frederick didn't know about the pain before, so--

Fuck, that's good, Ashe thinks, gasping as Frederick licks him from base to tip and then deep throats him all at once. It's a move that Frederick's good at, and that he's figured out that Ashe likes. The sudden transition from very little sensation to total sensation is one that Ashe is pretty sure will _never_ get old.

He manages to keep his breathing under control, and Frederick finds Ashe's hand and guides it to his hair.

So things are the same, even if they're different? Ashe pulls and feels Frederick moan around him and can't help a small smile. The smile doesn't last long, though, _can't_ last long with Frederick sucking like that, scraping his teeth a little, hands cupping Ashe's balls and squeezing just the right side of too hard.

Frederick does it all right, for--for a little while. Ashe can't say how long. A little while, and then he lets up one thing at a time. Less sucking, more licking. Less squeezing, more kneading.

And those eyes looking up at him with an expression that Ashe knows pretty fucking well by now: _Pull my hair or I'm not going to keep going_.

Ashe lets Frederick go on like that, the softer way, for longer than he normally would. If Frederick's going to be different, why can't Ashe? There's no reason, so he lets it go, waits until the frustration, the desperation starts to show before he tugs hard, both sides of Frederick's head at the same time.

Frederick moans, not sucking cock at all for long moments. Ashe can feel him shivering, too, feel that jolt of arousal going through him.

" _Good_ ," Frederick growls, red-hot voice, sex dripped in arousal and smothered in heat.

The word is like being bitten, which is what Frederick does next, his teeth sinking into the inside of Ashe's thigh briefly--so fucking brief, what a tease--before he returns to sucking Ashe's cock.

This time Ashe doesn't let up on their hair-pulling, giving tugs and twists whenever he can do it and not fuck up Frederick's rhythm. It's always a challenge to see which one of them fucks up first, and this time Frederick's that one. Twice in a row, but there isn't a third time, there's only Ashe's orgasm burning through him like a lightning strike, leaving him shaking and panting.

Frederick has come on his face, and in his mouth too.

"Come on up here," Ashe says, slurring only a little, and kisses Frederick until the taste isn't so strong anymore. Then he cups Frederick's face and licks the remainder of the semen off, the little bit on Frederick's forehead and then the larger glob on his cheek, and kisses him again, giving it back to him, sharing the way they always do. "What do you want?"

"You," Frederick says, sighing the word out, giving Ashe a brief peck right on the lips. "I want to fuck you."

Probably Ashe would've expected more Frederick to say "A bucket of acid and two nails to torture you" than _that_. Ashe wants to be fucked--it is actually one of the things he likes, though he hasn't yet experienced anything he doesn't like, except Frederick's teasing, which was too much for reasons that Ashe doesn't want to examine closely.

But what the fuck is he even supposed to say? Why yes, it worked so well before, let's give it another go! Fuck _that_. "Are you--"

"Just relax," Frederick said. "Don't you ever do that?"

No, Ashe thinks, and apparently doesn't even need to say it.

Frederick snorts out a little laugh and kisses Ashe on the cheek. "You don't have to answer that. Just--just let me give you the massage now, okay?"

Ashe refuses to let something as stupid as a massage get the best of him. He nods and lays back again, and Frederick pauses to strip off the rest of his clothes before picking up the unscented oil and dripping it into the palm of one hand.

Surprisingly, his touch is--it's erotic, of course it's erotic, it can't not be erotic--but it's not personal. Not like the stubble burn, not like that fucking dangerous smile. Ashe could be anyone, if Frederick were actually likely to massage just anyone, for all the attention Frederick shows Ashe's kinks.

"You could use an extra few pounds," Frederick says, his fingers smoothing up Ashe's ribs, over his pecs. His voice is low, soothing, but somehow impersonal as his touch. Even though he's saying what he's saying.

Just little comments like that. "Your nipples are so perky," and "I can't tell if you have real abs or if you're just that skinny," and on and on, in that same voice, and with that same touch that isn't so threatening as the other things were, for some reason. Just physical details, things anyone with eyes could observe, though why that's easier to hear, he has no fucking clue.

Again, not a line of thought Ashe wants to examine closely, and definitely not right now.

"Getting relaxed?" Frederick asks, but not excited. No, that same sedate tone, his knuckles digging into Ashe's thighs gently. Everything slides effortlessly, the oil making Ashe's skin just as slick as Frederick's hands.

Ashe just hums, not wanting to make himself talk. He _is_ getting relaxed, and it feels too nice to break whatever weird thing it is that's actually letting it happen. He suspects, more than anything, that it's Frederick's voice. That low almost monotone, which is now urging him to roll over, so he does with only a flutter of nervousness.

"Mmm. Lovely ass. I think I'll start with your shoulders." And he does. Slow, steady movements, rubbing, and Ashe lays there and takes it, eyes not even half-open. Frederick still talks, still comments, but Ashe isn't even hearing the words anymore. Just the tone, the languid quality as Frederick's hands move lower and lower.

He skips over Ashe's ass at first, going for his thighs instead and then his calves, his ankles, his feet. He even presses a little kiss against the soles of Ashe's feet, which is weird, but there's no accounting for taste and Ashe doesn't care anyway. As long as this stays just the same, doesn't end.

When a finger probes gently at his entrance, Ashe tenses up a little, but the knuckles of Frederick's other hand press into Ashe's lower back and he relaxes again, sighing even as his hands go from loose to curled.

"Shh," Frederick hisses, soft and without inflection. He adds another finger--is he at two or three, Ashe wonders? But then decides in the next breath that he doesn't care. Not even when Frederick says, "Just stay relaxed, Ashe. You're doing so well," because he keeps that same unhurried, unexcited tone. Like the weather, a thought that makes Ashe smile, though he hides that against the pillow.

The way Frederick presses his fingers in deeper, deeper, deeper makes Ashe's toes curl, and it's not long before he's working himself back against Frederick without meaning to. It just feels good. Relaxing, but good.

"That's it," Frederick whispers, a hint of excitement entering his voice, enough to make Ashe's heart beat a little faster. "Fuck, Ashe, you're just so--such a wet dream. Wet fucking dream."

"Oiled," Ashe says, hiding another smile in the pillow.

Frederick's laugh is barely more than a muffled noise. "Right. Oiled fucking dream. Are you--is it okay?"

Ashe nods. He can feel himself coming up out of the relaxation, out of that place where nothing matters except Frederick and his magic hands and voice, but not far out of it. He can still feel that place, still feel the way his body feels so heavy and the arousal is far away even if his cock is hard all of the sudden.

It makes his head spin a little, the suddenness, but Frederick slides one hand down Ashe's back and whispers into his ear: "Shhhh, Ashe. Just relax." And Ashe does, just does exactly what Frederick asks.

The bed shifts as Frederick lifts Ashe's hips and puts a pillow under them, so he's not laying flat but he's not on his hands and knees either. Ashe tries to get up, but Frederick slides that same hand down the center of Ashe's back, a slow, silent command, and Ashe can hear the soothing in his head. _Shhhh. Relax._

Ashe does. Relax, that is, even when he hears Frederick opening the condom wrapper, feels the oil being dripped over his ass. Hears Frederick slicking himself up, surprisingly loud in the quiet of the room.

This time Frederick's hands hold Ashe's cheeks apart as he presses inside, slow but steady, stopping many times to kiss the center of Ashe's back, to let Ashe get used to having something bigger than a couple fingers in his ass.

How Frederick stayed hard the entire time, Ashe has no clue. It feels that long, like time drawn out and out and out, before Frederick starts fucking him.

Ashe moans softly, pressing back against Frederick, but more to feel Frederick pin his hips down than out of any desire for speed.

"I've wanted my cock inside of you again since that first time," Frederick says, voice low. Steady. "Wanted to feel you squirm, feel you below me, watch your cheeks go red."

Are they? Ashe touches one; it's hot. Frederick's cock hits a particularly nice angle and he buries his face in the pillow again, moaning louder.

Frederick shakes, his fingers digging in deeper, the more oily hand slipping a little. "I--I don't care if it takes hours every time. Your ass is--I could fuck your ass every night and not get sick of it, I think."

Without Ashe being named, without the direct _you_ , with Frederick focusing on Ashe's body parts instead, Ashe doesn't freak out. His heart does beat faster in the bad way, but Frederick smoothes his hand up Ashe's spine this time and that voice is there in his head again, mirroring Frederick's low hiss. "Shh. Shhhh."

The glide of Frederick's cock into Ashe's ass speeds up a bit, after that. Frederick reaches down between the pillow and Ashe's body and wraps his hand around Ashe's cock and Ashe really groans at that, squirms, shivers. It's getting harder and harder to stay relaxed, but that's probably what Frederick wants.

"That's it," Frederick says, like he knows Ashe's dilemma. "That's it, just--ah, so tight, I can't believe-- _yes_ , just like that, move just like that."

Ashe does, moves just that same way, rocking back against Frederick's cock and forward against the pillow and Frederick's hand, backward, forward, his hands fisting the pillow now, gripping as he drags in unsteady breaths. He isn't even conscious of the noise he's making, a low keen that grows in volume the longer Frederick keeps this up.

"That's it, that's it, that's it," is all Frederick says now, leaning over Ashe, his breath hot against the back of Ashe's neck, cock so--so hard, making Ashe's eyes roll back, making him bow his back, silently wanting more, more, more. 

Frederick gives it to him. Everything he wants and more, a hard pounding and a relentless handjob and those noises, wonderful noises, wonderful curses. Wonderful orgasm, burning through Ashe's senses, only getting better as he feels Frederick tensing behind him then pushing in and in and in.

Ashe can't breathe, doesn't try, until Frederick's through coming, until Frederick rolls off of Ashe, panting like he's just run a marathon. Or had the fuck of his life.

And all Ashe can do is give him the goofiest fucking smile in the world and hum when Frederick's fingers trace Ashe's face and he looks so... nice. They stay like that for a little while, long enough that the oil and sweat on Ashe's body make him begin to shiver and Frederick chuckles. "Looks like I should be cleaning you up. Hold still."

Right. Ashe can do that. Now that the orgasm is over, he's slipped back into that relaxed place, and it feels fucking fantastic. Best orgasm, just so nice. So _nice_.

Later, when Frederick suggests that Ashe stay and sleep Ashe knows damn well he shouldn't, but the reasons why are somewhere else and he doesn't want to examine them too closely. Just like all the reasons why he should've done his job and gotten the fuck out of dodge, but still hasn't.

Maybe that defense mechanism is becoming a problem, he thinks, but not, you know, very hard.


End file.
